On the Golden Horizon
by RavenInDarkness
Summary: Patrick Roscoe is the only son of Poseidon, the cursed king of Atlantis. He must defeat the evil Cronus, the sorcerer who had cursed Atlantis to an eternity locked in ghostly forms. With his spirit animal at his side, Patrick must struggle on to victory!
1. Chapter 1

As the sun set over the California horizon, Patrick Roscoe surveyed the land. The land he'd sworn to protect ever since that one fateful day. The fateful day he'd discovered his destiny.

He stood on top of a majestic cliff, staring at the teeming metropolis below. His 6 foot tall and impossibly muscled body was caressed by gentle winds that spilled over his body. Despite the fact that it was quite warm outside, Patrick felt a chill ripple through his body. His city was in danger. He'd chosen to live in Hermopolis part of the time, although there were places in Spain and Mexico that he also called home.

With one prodigious leap, Patrick hurled himself off of the cliff. Any onlookers would have thought him suicidal. But then, they had no way of knowing the truth. As Patrick soared through the sky, he sent a silent mental call to his bond animal. Harlow answered quickly and teleported instantly to Patrick's side. Harlow was an unusual beast, being equal parts unicorn, lion and bird. It had taken Patrick by surprise when Harlow had discovered him on that fateful day.

The day that he had been told that he was the lost son of Atlantean king Poseidon. He had been on an outing with several of his friends, if he could call them that. None of them were ever able to notice the TRUE Patrick, the inner Patrick Roscoe that metaphysically cried out in the night like a small child desperately searching for light. It was that same soul blindness that kept them from seeing Harlow's true form. One of the women had cooed over what she thought was just a small white mare running wild across the plains of Spain. Harlow had instantly mind melded with Patrick and his spirit had flown out of his body. Patrick's friends had thought he'd passed out from far too much sangria and other drinks, so they'd gently laid his body down onto a bed of dry grasses and blankets to sleep it off.

But no- Patrick had not been sloshed. His spirit had flown astride Harlow as he had been taken to the ruined city of Atlantis. He had met the ghost of Poseidon and all of the poor doomed spirits of the city's inhabitants. Poseidon had wept with joy as he'd clasped his son in his arms and for a moment Patrick had known a moment of true joy and peace. Poseidon revealed to him how he, the Atlantean king, had managed to copulate with a mortal woman of humanity in the hopes of spawning a champion for his peoples. He had possessed the mortal woman's mate, but the resulting child had been born a pure blooded Atlantean. However, soon after the woman had been lost to him, causing his only son to have been lost as well.

Patrick had been loathe to leave that happy scene, but leave he must. His father had tasked him with a seemingly impossible task- to find the evil scourge that had doomed the city of Atlantis to its ghostly slumber and defeat him. Upon the defeat of the scourge, the king, the city and all of its inhabitants would once again have their fleshly forms and the city would rise to the surface, the curse abated. It was there that Patrick had been imbued with all of the powers of the legendary city's inhabitants, elevating him to a status akin to godhood. His father Poseidon had told him that this would put him on an equal fighting level with the evil Cronus, the one who had cursed them all out of jealousy of their happiness.

Harlow had then carried Patrick's spirit self back to his comatose form. It had been difficult to relate to his friends before on an intellectual level, but now it was near impossible. He was so in tune with the forces of nature that now he was able to do feats that would boggle their minds if they only knew of what he was capable of.

*Patrick…* Harlow was unable to speak as humans do, but he was incredibly talented in the psychic gifts. *You are thinking of your father again.* Harlow knew that Patrick was in anguish over the inner torment of not having defeated Cronus yet. *Or are you thinking of HER?*

Her. The one person who was even remotely similar to him. Patrick had met her on a day that was just as fateful as the one where he'd discovered his true birthrights.


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick had met Amaia through battle. He had expected Cronus to enlist others in battle, but Patrick had not expected to go up against the daughter of Cronus himself. Amaia was beautiful beyond any human comparison. Her skin gleamed with the color of a thousand sunsets, a deep rich caramel color. Her eyes reminded him of the finest agate stones, with her eyes swirling to different levels of blueness. When she was in the throes of passion, they were such a deep blue that they were almost midnight black.

It had not taken them long to fall for each other. Each battle had them locked against each other, but one battle had found them in the middle of a storm so fierce that they'd had to huddle together in a series of caves off the coast of Madagascar. It was there that she had given herself to him, body and soul. Their courtship afterwards had been tumultuous to say the least, but Patrick had hoped to win her over to the side of the angels. He was on the verge of achieving at least this victory when her father had discovered their love for each other. Cronus had imprisoned Amaia in a large diamond of the purest quality, telling her that it was her punishment for betraying him. Her punishment was that she would watch Cronus as he tore Patrick Roscoe limb from limb and devoured him.

Patrick had been helpless to do nothing more than watch Amaia be imprisoned from a distance. Their psychic link had been impossibly strong, and when her mind was severed from his… he'd wept.

Patrick smiled at Harlow. His spirit friend was always thinking of his well being, his state of emotions. *No, my friend… I am fine. I was just thinking that the final battle with Cronus should happen soon. There is an ill wind brewing, I fear. I do not doubt that if Cronus isn't vanquished soon, he will soon curse the world to the same fate as Atlantis. Already, I have had to stop his nefarious plots to stoke the world's ill will into a blazing inferno of genocide and war.*

Patrick and Harlow landed outside of a small nightclub. Even though he must fight the forces of darkness on a daily basis, he still had an obligation to the hordes of fans who read his books. Harlow transformed into a small bird and landed on Patrick's shoulder. *Which performance will you be giving them tonight? The last time you performed from your most recent book, the audience was unable to finish it. The sheer perfection of your performance overwhelmed their emotions. While you did sell out of every copy you'd brought with you, I fear that a repeat performance will incapacitate them for days instead of the hours it took them to surface back to reality.*

Patrick ran his fingers through his short sandy blonde hair and whispered softly, "I will read to them from another recent piece, but this time I will attempt to hold myself back more. I keep forgetting that mere mortals are unable to handle the prose that is made in the Laboratory of Love."

Patrick entered the bar and immediately felt all eyes focus on him. He walked past the scores of adoring women whose fingers trailed over his form. There were always a few men who approached him like this as well, some of which were willing to throw their normal sexuality to the side in the hopes of scoring one night with Patrick.

Patrick paid them no mind, striding towards the huge stage with a purpose. He gave them the performance of a lifetime. Even with his abilities purposely muted, he still held them in thrall throughout the entire six hour performance.

Once he stepped off of the stage, Patrick noticed him. Cronus. He sat in the corner, lazily grinning at Patrick. Cronus's curly dark hair reflected the lights of the bar. His body was almost as exquisitely formed as Patrick's was, and he showed it off to full effect in a gauzy shirt that left little to the imagination.

"Patrick. I have decided that you and I should be friends. Why should we fight together when we could be… partners. You and I could rule the world together, forever. With you by my side, I could show you a paradise of delights that no others would ever see or be able to experience. You alone are worthy enough to rule by my side."

The offer was tempting. Too tempting. With images of his father and Amaia in his mind, Patrick scowled at Cronus. "I will not, you evil black hearted scoundrel! I fight for justice, not for despots like you!"

Cronus got to his feet. "So be it. LET US FIGHT TO THE DEATH!"


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick threw out a bolt of pure light from his hands. He took that moment to grab Cronus and hurl him out of the building. Patrick couldn't have the innocent bystanders getting hurt during this battle.

Cronus scowled and flew up into the air. Patrick was about to fly up after him when Harlow transformed into his normal form. *No Patrick, ride me! Ride me into the heavens and use your might against this unworthiest of foes! Save your strength for the sword Excalibur that you must summon from your spirit energy!*

Patrick knew that Harlow was right- he must summon Excalibur in order to fight Cronus. It was a sword that could only be wielded by the purest of souls- Patrick was the first man in thousands of years that was worthy of holding it, let alone using it. It had been thought missing until Patrick had manifested it in the last battle against Cronus's minions. Patrick summoned the sword from his soul, the blade shimmering even though the night was still dark.

Flying up into the sky, Patrick found himself facing Cronus and the diamond clad form of Amaia. "If you yield to me, I will free my daughter for your pleasures. She will do as you say as long as you give me what I want. What is best for us both."

Patrick felt anguish rising into him like an old friend. Despite his deep enduring love for Amaia, he could not give into the evil sorcerer's wishes. "I will fight you and win, you stealer of souls!" cried Patrick as he lunged towards Cronus.

Cronus summoned his own weapon, a weapon that Patrick had not known the sorcerer had carried. It was the Trident of Prosperity, his father's weapon. It was supposed to make the wielder unbeatable, much like how Exalibur had the same properties. This was truly an even battle- godlike being against godlike being, magical sword against magical sword. The only difference is that Patrick knew that the heavens were on his side.

Cronus hurled energy towards Patrick and Harlow barely managed to evade it. Patrick felt Excalibur light ablaze with the power of a thousand suns as he hurled himself towards Cronus. Their weapons met with a mighty clang of energy and sound.

In the city below people cried out in the night. Their spirits were too blind to see the greatest of battles unfurling above them, but their souls knew that something of great majesty and importance was occurring. Small children called for their parents, who held them while they both shivered. A blind beggar on the streets lifted his head to the skies as large flashes of lightning raced across the sky. Although he was blind, he could still feel the blazes in his soul and recoiled. He sought refuge in a doorway, knowing that this was not for mortals such as him to behold.

Bloodied and beaten, Patrick and Cronus eyed each other warily. Patrick strode forward on Harlow for another attack, only to see Amaia's body thrown at him. Patrick managed to draw back his sword to keep from cleaving her in two, and her diamond encapsuled body fell from the heavens. Patrick watched in horror as it landed on the city below. A briefest of glimpses showed him that while there had been great damage done to a building below, his beloved was seemingly still uninjured in her diamond prison.

"CRONUS! YOUR DESTRUCTION ENDS NOW!" His anger lit Excalibur brighter than ever and Patrick lunged forward. Cronus was unable to beat the stronger spirit energy of Patrick and Excalibur pierced him through the heart. As his body disintegrated, Patrick felt the curse of Atlantis being lifted.

He descended from the heavens to see a small group of people huddled around Amaia. The fall had indeed damaged her, and a small rivulet of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Summoning all of his powers inside of him, Patrick willed her flesh to knit and her heart to beat stronger than ever. As the onlookers gasped and whispered to each other, Patrick watched as Amaia's eyes opened. Her blue eyes swirled with a flurry of colors as she focused on Patrick. Then she smiled.

"My beloved! My evil father is finally destroyed and I am yours forever!" They kissed as the people around them cheered on.

Epilogue

"Are you sure that you will not stay with us here in Atlantis, my son? The world is unable to comprehend greatness such as yours. Here in Atlantis you would find an audience able to see the quality of your works and talents."

Patrick smiled at his father. "No father, there is still evil in the world. The raising of Atlantis to the surface has woken a great many evils, and it is my duty to find and vanquish each and every one of them. But worry not- with my beloved Amaia by my side, we shall find and defeat each one of them!"


End file.
